To My Parents
My father died 37 years ago today.
My mother was 42. I thought she was old at the time.
I knew she was beautiful in her competence and grief.
Each year I honor this day.
This year is different though, because, now, she has joined him.
I see and feel them, flying and flitting, in the most joyous of play.
I can enjoy this day now, no grieving,
only peace, and ease, in knowing what awaits,
when I leave the boundaries of time,
and open the rim of space.
The ocean falls through the sand,
and flows back out.